Jo Knowles's Blog, page 17
March 26, 2012
"You don't have to be noisy to be remembered"
This weekend I spent three days at the incredible Whispering Pines Retreat, organized by Lynda Mullaly Hunt and Mary Pierce.
Wow.
This is a small-ish retreat that combines workshops, one-on-one critiques, group critiques, first-page panels, and eating a helluva lot of tasty food.
I HIGHLY recommend it.
Every time someone asks me how it went I find myself saying, "It was so nice. Everyone was SOOOO NICE." And it's true. I think of all the workshops and conferences and retreats I've been to over the years, I have never come across a group that was more consistently caring, supportive, friendly and, well, LOVING.
As the author mentor, I was on the first page panels, gave a workshop, and read several 25-page manuscripts and then met with the authors for 30 minute sessions. I was incredibly nervous about my workshop, but once I finally made it to the front of the room, my nerves slipped away. Because, like I said, everyone was so NICE! It was great.
One of the many perks of being a mentor was that when I wasn't presenting or giving critiques, I got to sit in on the other workshops. They were fantastic.
Yolanda Scott (editor) talked about character, plot and action in picture books.
Michelle Poploff (editor) told us about all the debut authors she'd signed on (including after she'd met them at critique sessions at conferences like this one), filling the pre-published writers in the audience with hope. And NOTE: She requested to see TWO of the manuscripts from authors I had the privilege of critiquing, based on the first pages she'd heard. So if you ever doubted the power of a first page, think again! :)
Andrea Cascardi (agent) inspired everyone to keep getting better and stronger, no matter where you are on your journey.
Alexis O'Neill (author and school visit guru) made us clap and chant and sing (and laugh), and gave us some incredible tools for a successful school visit.
And Suzanne Bloom (author/illustrator) captivated us with her WONDERFUL illustrations and storytelling. She is a genius.
I could go on and on. But here is one gem I will share, because if you are a bit shy and stage-fightish like me, it is something you can carry with you before every event you will ever do from here on out. And I want to thank Alexis O'Neill for giving me/us these powerful words of wisdom. This is going to be the refrain I chant to myself before every workshop I give:
"You don't have to be noisy to be remembered. You just have to be honest." -Alexis O'Neill
As my funny little nephew you would say, "Put THAT on your wall." :-) I will!
Thank you Alexis! And thank you EVERYONE who participated in the retreat. You were all wonderful. I feel I left that beautiful place with 55 dear new friends.
xo
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
If you could share one bit of honesty with your fellow writers, what would it be?
Wow.
This is a small-ish retreat that combines workshops, one-on-one critiques, group critiques, first-page panels, and eating a helluva lot of tasty food.
I HIGHLY recommend it.
Every time someone asks me how it went I find myself saying, "It was so nice. Everyone was SOOOO NICE." And it's true. I think of all the workshops and conferences and retreats I've been to over the years, I have never come across a group that was more consistently caring, supportive, friendly and, well, LOVING.
As the author mentor, I was on the first page panels, gave a workshop, and read several 25-page manuscripts and then met with the authors for 30 minute sessions. I was incredibly nervous about my workshop, but once I finally made it to the front of the room, my nerves slipped away. Because, like I said, everyone was so NICE! It was great.
One of the many perks of being a mentor was that when I wasn't presenting or giving critiques, I got to sit in on the other workshops. They were fantastic.
Yolanda Scott (editor) talked about character, plot and action in picture books.
Michelle Poploff (editor) told us about all the debut authors she'd signed on (including after she'd met them at critique sessions at conferences like this one), filling the pre-published writers in the audience with hope. And NOTE: She requested to see TWO of the manuscripts from authors I had the privilege of critiquing, based on the first pages she'd heard. So if you ever doubted the power of a first page, think again! :)
Andrea Cascardi (agent) inspired everyone to keep getting better and stronger, no matter where you are on your journey.
Alexis O'Neill (author and school visit guru) made us clap and chant and sing (and laugh), and gave us some incredible tools for a successful school visit.
And Suzanne Bloom (author/illustrator) captivated us with her WONDERFUL illustrations and storytelling. She is a genius.
I could go on and on. But here is one gem I will share, because if you are a bit shy and stage-fightish like me, it is something you can carry with you before every event you will ever do from here on out. And I want to thank Alexis O'Neill for giving me/us these powerful words of wisdom. This is going to be the refrain I chant to myself before every workshop I give:
"You don't have to be noisy to be remembered. You just have to be honest." -Alexis O'Neill
As my funny little nephew you would say, "Put THAT on your wall." :-) I will!
Thank you Alexis! And thank you EVERYONE who participated in the retreat. You were all wonderful. I feel I left that beautiful place with 55 dear new friends.
xo
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
If you could share one bit of honesty with your fellow writers, what would it be?
March 19, 2012
Who do you hold in your heart?
Sad news continues to swirl among the happy these days. Up and down, up and down. I was thinking about this yesterday during a meeting, as I held a sweet baby who was oblivious to the healing power he was having on my heart.
On Friday, I went shopping to try to find some new clothes to wear to various upcoming events. With each store, I left empty-handed, I was getting more and more frustrated. Finally, I found a cute dress at J. Crew. It was an outlet store so the price was cheap and I decided to give it a try. I never know what size I am so I took two and, perhaps a bit too optimistically, tried on the smaller size first. Once on, I realized the dress wasn't me at all. The skirt flared out way too flamboyantly for quiet me. So, I lifted it up to take it off... And got stuck. Oh. Yes. So. Stuck. I could NOT get it off! Standing in front of the mirror with the fabric all bunched up around my chest, my hideous underwear and saggy socks on display I thought, "When I have to ask the fitting room lady to help me, she is going to have the best story of the year to tell all her friends." And then I thought, "No, I am going to have the best story of the year."
But I must say at that moment, I was pretty sure I didn't want it.
I took some deep breaths. I tried pulling it up again. No good. I tried pulling it down over my shoulders. No good. I could feel my face starting to prickle. I averted my eyes from my lumpy out-of-shape body. I tried another tug and felt like I might have pulled a muscle in my shoulder. I breathed again. Leave it to me to get stuck in a dress AND injure myself.
Finally, when I thought all hope was lost, I grabbed the fabric for one more desperate pull and discovered...
A zipper.
I was saved.
As I left the store triumphantly, I thought of my dear, dear friend and how much she would enjoy that story. I have some pretty stationery and I could send her a real letter. She'd like that.
But when I returned home, I received a note I have been dreading for months. She has entered a hospice care facility. I sat there staring at her good-bye message, beautifully and courageously worded, and cried. I cried for my friend, who is so brave. And for all of us who have been touched by this wonderful woman. We will miss her so.
I am so grateful to my friend, my mentor, who taught me to look for the story in all of life's predicaments. To find the humor. To embrace the silly, embarrassing moments, especially when they involve underwear or mismatched socks.
And to find the beauty and love, too, in small gifts. In holding a baby. A little miracle. A little promise. That life goes on whether we're ready or not.
And that love doesn't die.
I feel my friend's light and I see it in all the people she has touched and inspired. And in all the children who have read her beautiful, hopeful stories.
She is in my heart. And in so many others.
Always.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
Who are you holding in your heart today?
On Friday, I went shopping to try to find some new clothes to wear to various upcoming events. With each store, I left empty-handed, I was getting more and more frustrated. Finally, I found a cute dress at J. Crew. It was an outlet store so the price was cheap and I decided to give it a try. I never know what size I am so I took two and, perhaps a bit too optimistically, tried on the smaller size first. Once on, I realized the dress wasn't me at all. The skirt flared out way too flamboyantly for quiet me. So, I lifted it up to take it off... And got stuck. Oh. Yes. So. Stuck. I could NOT get it off! Standing in front of the mirror with the fabric all bunched up around my chest, my hideous underwear and saggy socks on display I thought, "When I have to ask the fitting room lady to help me, she is going to have the best story of the year to tell all her friends." And then I thought, "No, I am going to have the best story of the year."
But I must say at that moment, I was pretty sure I didn't want it.
I took some deep breaths. I tried pulling it up again. No good. I tried pulling it down over my shoulders. No good. I could feel my face starting to prickle. I averted my eyes from my lumpy out-of-shape body. I tried another tug and felt like I might have pulled a muscle in my shoulder. I breathed again. Leave it to me to get stuck in a dress AND injure myself.
Finally, when I thought all hope was lost, I grabbed the fabric for one more desperate pull and discovered...
A zipper.
I was saved.
As I left the store triumphantly, I thought of my dear, dear friend and how much she would enjoy that story. I have some pretty stationery and I could send her a real letter. She'd like that.
But when I returned home, I received a note I have been dreading for months. She has entered a hospice care facility. I sat there staring at her good-bye message, beautifully and courageously worded, and cried. I cried for my friend, who is so brave. And for all of us who have been touched by this wonderful woman. We will miss her so.
I am so grateful to my friend, my mentor, who taught me to look for the story in all of life's predicaments. To find the humor. To embrace the silly, embarrassing moments, especially when they involve underwear or mismatched socks.
And to find the beauty and love, too, in small gifts. In holding a baby. A little miracle. A little promise. That life goes on whether we're ready or not.
And that love doesn't die.
I feel my friend's light and I see it in all the people she has touched and inspired. And in all the children who have read her beautiful, hopeful stories.
She is in my heart. And in so many others.
Always.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
Who are you holding in your heart today?
March 15, 2012
Wordless Wednesday: Green theme for a party. Did I go too far?
ETA: Um. I just realized it's Thursday. Oh boy.
March 13, 2012
EYE OF THE STORM is here!
Yay! Kate Messner's latest book hits the shelves today!
Shop Indie Bookstores
This is a fantastic adventure book with some great twists and bit of darkness(!), which is new for Kate! I love it and I bet you will too!
Congrats, Kate!!!
Shop Indie Bookstores
This is a fantastic adventure book with some great twists and bit of darkness(!), which is new for Kate! I love it and I bet you will too!
Congrats, Kate!!!
March 12, 2012
mud, mud, glorious mud
1. I live on a dirt road.
2. I live in New England.
3. It is spring.
These things combined mean one thing:
MUD
Thick, squishy, sloppy, deep, rutty, glorious(??) mud.
It means all those potholes we've memorized over the past month(s) are now filled with, well, ooze. And the once hard, frozen road feels alive under our feet, or tires, as the case may be. In some places, the ruts are so deep our tires sink half way up. No need to steer, the deep ruts work like a track guiding us down the hill, or up the hill, depending. We sigh and let go of dreams of replacing our 10-year-old RAV with a cute little Honda Fit, or in bigger dreams, a Prius. We'd bottom out before going ten yards.
All this mud makes us slow down. Makes us pay attention. CLOSE attention.
And that's a good thing.
I don't know about you, but lately I could use a little mud in my life. A little of nature's brakes. I open my calendar file and see how many talks and events I've got scheduled in the coming months and feel panic rise in my chest. I'm used to spending all of my energy stressed about ONE talk or so a year. During March and April alone, I have SIX. This will either cause me to have a nervous breakdown, or cure my stage fright at last.
What I love about spring is marking the snow melt. Rejoicing the first time I can walk all the way around the house without touching an inch of frozen white stuff. Inspecting the ground closely as I walk, looking for any sign of life starting to poke through the soil. Celebrating the first crocus. The first glimpse of green daffodil and tulip stems. (I just realized this makes it sound like I have the most boring life on the planet. Um. No comment.)
ANYway. Yesterday, I stepped out on the deck and saw the crocuses were already coming up. Along with the iris. In MARCH!
Spring, along with everything else, is rushing forward. I wish we could slow it down a bit so we could enjoy it. I wish we could just get stuck in the mud for a while and remember how glorious it is. Life. Earth defrosting. A promise of green things to come. Of warm days headed our way. Of the first outdoor dinner made from the garden. Of the first no coat day. The first t-shirt and sandals day. First swim. In New England, each of these is precious, especially when in May, the first load of wood is delivered and you start stacking in preparation for the next winter to come.
This is all to say, I've decided to work very hard to slow down a little and enjoy these wonderful promise-y spring days, mud and all. To go outside and breathe it in at least once a day, but preferably more. To remember how lucky I am that I can do that at all. Who's with me?
"Mud, mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood
So follow me follow, down to the hollow
And there let me wallow in glorious mud"
-Flanders and Swann
~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
Describe your favorite spring-time promise.
2. I live in New England.
3. It is spring.
These things combined mean one thing:
MUD
Thick, squishy, sloppy, deep, rutty, glorious(??) mud.
It means all those potholes we've memorized over the past month(s) are now filled with, well, ooze. And the once hard, frozen road feels alive under our feet, or tires, as the case may be. In some places, the ruts are so deep our tires sink half way up. No need to steer, the deep ruts work like a track guiding us down the hill, or up the hill, depending. We sigh and let go of dreams of replacing our 10-year-old RAV with a cute little Honda Fit, or in bigger dreams, a Prius. We'd bottom out before going ten yards.
All this mud makes us slow down. Makes us pay attention. CLOSE attention.
And that's a good thing.
I don't know about you, but lately I could use a little mud in my life. A little of nature's brakes. I open my calendar file and see how many talks and events I've got scheduled in the coming months and feel panic rise in my chest. I'm used to spending all of my energy stressed about ONE talk or so a year. During March and April alone, I have SIX. This will either cause me to have a nervous breakdown, or cure my stage fright at last.
What I love about spring is marking the snow melt. Rejoicing the first time I can walk all the way around the house without touching an inch of frozen white stuff. Inspecting the ground closely as I walk, looking for any sign of life starting to poke through the soil. Celebrating the first crocus. The first glimpse of green daffodil and tulip stems. (I just realized this makes it sound like I have the most boring life on the planet. Um. No comment.)
ANYway. Yesterday, I stepped out on the deck and saw the crocuses were already coming up. Along with the iris. In MARCH!
Spring, along with everything else, is rushing forward. I wish we could slow it down a bit so we could enjoy it. I wish we could just get stuck in the mud for a while and remember how glorious it is. Life. Earth defrosting. A promise of green things to come. Of warm days headed our way. Of the first outdoor dinner made from the garden. Of the first no coat day. The first t-shirt and sandals day. First swim. In New England, each of these is precious, especially when in May, the first load of wood is delivered and you start stacking in preparation for the next winter to come.
This is all to say, I've decided to work very hard to slow down a little and enjoy these wonderful promise-y spring days, mud and all. To go outside and breathe it in at least once a day, but preferably more. To remember how lucky I am that I can do that at all. Who's with me?
"Mud, mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood
So follow me follow, down to the hollow
And there let me wallow in glorious mud"
-Flanders and Swann
~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
Describe your favorite spring-time promise.
March 7, 2012
March 2, 2012
Thank you :)
Thank you for all the starry cheers yesterday!
Hope you all have a fantastic weekend!!!!
Hope you all have a fantastic weekend!!!!
March 1, 2012
Thankful Thursday: A Star for Harry's
I thought the full review would be available online today, but it's only viewable to subscribers. But I can't keep it to myself!
You can still see that beautiful blue star next to the title. :)
It's there, right? It's really there???
Other than a PW Online star, this is my first ever starred review. I still feel like I have to sit down and fan myself.
*sits down* *fans self*
Here is a sneak peek:
"Prescient writing, fully developed characters and completely, tragically believable situations elevate this sad, gripping tale to a must-read level."
Thank you, Kirkus!
You can still see that beautiful blue star next to the title. :)
It's there, right? It's really there???
Other than a PW Online star, this is my first ever starred review. I still feel like I have to sit down and fan myself.
*sits down* *fans self*
Here is a sneak peek:
"Prescient writing, fully developed characters and completely, tragically believable situations elevate this sad, gripping tale to a must-read level."
Thank you, Kirkus!
February 29, 2012
"He makes life beautiful"
I am listening to the audiobook of I Am The Messenger with my son. I have read and listened to this book many times now and must admit that I am kind of in love with Markus Zusak's way with words. I don't actually know how anyone couldn't be. In fact, I hate to admit this, but if someone told me they didn't like his work, it would be hard for me not to judge and wonder where the person's heart went.
Yesterday, as I was driving with my son, he said, "He's such an amazing writer, isn't he Mom? He makes life beautiful."
That really does define Zusak perfectly, doesn't it? He shows readers the beauty in the ugly and mundane. Even the smelly. I mean, who doesn't love The Doorman? Who???
Anyway, this is what I'm thinking about today. About remembering to slow down and notice the beauty of it all. Of every step we take. Of every soul we pass on our way.
And I am feeling grateful to Markus Zusak for having shown my son a deeper, more meaningful dimension to our daily interactions and observations. As we listen, I feel the book opening his heart to the world in a new and kinder way, just as it did mine. And that, for sure, is beautiful.
Yesterday, as I was driving with my son, he said, "He's such an amazing writer, isn't he Mom? He makes life beautiful."
That really does define Zusak perfectly, doesn't it? He shows readers the beauty in the ugly and mundane. Even the smelly. I mean, who doesn't love The Doorman? Who???
Anyway, this is what I'm thinking about today. About remembering to slow down and notice the beauty of it all. Of every step we take. Of every soul we pass on our way.
And I am feeling grateful to Markus Zusak for having shown my son a deeper, more meaningful dimension to our daily interactions and observations. As we listen, I feel the book opening his heart to the world in a new and kinder way, just as it did mine. And that, for sure, is beautiful.
